Chapter 92 92
DAISY POV
Diesel grabbed a large towel and wrapped it around me first, then scooped me up like I weighed nothing. He carried me back into the bedroom and set me gently on the edge of the bed.
“Stay here,” he said, voice still husky. “I’ll get you something dry to wear.”
He walked to the closet and returned with one of his oversized black t-shirts and a pair of soft sweatpants that would probably swallow me whole. He helped me into them, his hands lingering on my skin longer than necessary.
Diesel’s cock was still fucking hard. I didn’t know why he refused to just fuck me and relieve himself. Was he holding back because I was a virgin?
Once I was dressed in his oversized black t-shirt and sweatpants, Diesel sat beside me on the bed and pulled me into his lap so I straddled him again. His hands rested on my thighs, thumbs stroking slow, soothing circles over the fabric.
“You wanted normal things,” he said quietly, remembering my earlier words. “Clothes that fit. A job. A life.”
I nodded, trying to focus on what he was saying. But my mind was barely there.
He was still so fucking hard.
I could feel the thick, heavy length of him pressing right against my core through his wet jeans. Every small shift of my hips made him twitch against me, and it was driving me insane. Heat pooled low in my belly again, my pussy still sensitive and slick from earlier.
I wanted to say it out loud — “Just fuck me. Ease yourself inside me. Please.” — but the words stuck in my throat. I was too shy. Too nervous. I had never done anything like this before, and asking felt too bold.
Instead, one thought kept looping in my head.
I could… suck him.
I had never done it before, but I had watched enough movies and read enough novels to have an idea. The thought made my cheeks burn, but it also made me wetter.
I didn’t realize how long I had been staring at the bulge in his jeans until Diesel cleared his throat.
My head snapped up.
He was watching me with dark, knowing eyes, one eyebrow slightly raised.
“I—I…” I stammered, face flaming. “I didn’t mean to… I was just…”
Diesel’s lips twitched. He squeezed my thigh gently. “I’ll be fine.”
“You think so?” I whispered.
But by now my hands had already moved on their own. I slid one palm over the hard ridge in his jeans, caressing him slowly through the wet denim. He was so thick, so warm even through the fabric.
“I just want to help…” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
Diesel didn’t stop me.
Emboldened, I reached for his zipper with shaky fingers. I pulled it down carefully and freed his cock. It sprang out heavy and thick, the head already glistening with pre-cum. I stared at it for a second, a little intimidated by the size.
I looked up at his face. “Let me help,” I said, almost pleading.
The moment my fingers wrapped around him, Diesel’s expression changed — his jaw clenched tighter, eyes turning seductive and hungry, pupils blown wide. A low groan rumbled in his chest.
That small sound gave me courage.
I wasn’t good at this — I knew that — but I wanted to try.
I bent down, heart hammering, and took the head of his cock into my mouth. I sucked gently at first, swirling my tongue around the tip the way I had seen in videos. He tasted salty and masculine. I took a little more, bobbing my head slowly, trying to remember everything I had read.
I kept glancing up at his face between strokes, searching for any sign that I was doing it right. But Diesel wasn’t moaning like the guys in the movies. His breathing was heavy and controlled, his hand resting lightly on the back of my head, but he stayed mostly quiet.
Doubt hit me hard.
Am I doing it wrong? I thought. He’s supposed to be moaning…
I pulled my mouth off him with a wet pop, lips trembling as I started to apologize. “I’m sorry, I’m not good at—”
Before I could finish the sentence, Diesel’s hand slid to the back of my neck, gripping firmly but not painfully.
He stood up suddenly, towering over me, and guided my head back to his cock.
“Open,” he growled.
I obeyed instantly, lips parting.
He pushed inside my mouth — deeper than I had taken him before. His hips thrust forward in a slow, controlled rhythm, fucking my mouth with steady strokes. One hand stayed on the back of my neck, holding me in place while the other brushed my wet hair out of my face.
I moaned around his thickness, eyes watering slightly as he went deeper. The sound vibrated around him, and this time I heard it — a low, guttural groan tore from his throat.
That sound made me so happy.
I had imagined this exact thing so many times in secret — being used like this, taken roughly by a man who wanted me this badly. In my fantasies, Diesel would even slap my cheek lightly while he fucked my mouth.
He didn’t slap me, but the way he held my neck and thrust into my mouth felt even better than I had dreamed.
I relaxed my throat as much as I could, letting him use me. Saliva dripped down my chin, mixing with the water still clinging to our skin. Every time he pushed deep, I gagged softly, but I didn’t pull away. I wanted this. I wanted to make him feel good.
Diesel’s breathing grew harsher. His thrusts became faster, more urgent.
“Fuck… that’s it, baby,” he rasped, voice strained. “Just like that. Good girl.”
His praise made me moan louder around him.
A few more deep thrusts and his grip on my neck tightened.
“I’m close,” he warned, voice dark.
I didn’t pull away. I sucked harder, looking up at him with watery eyes.
With a deep, guttural groan, Diesel came.
Hot, thick spurts of cum filled my mouth. I tried to swallow as much as I could, but some escaped, dripping down my chin. He kept thrusting slowly through his release, milking every drop until he finally stilled.
He pulled out gently, breathing hard, and looked down at me with raw possession burning in his eyes.
I sat there on my knees, lips swollen, chin messy, chest heaving.
Diesel wiped the corner of my mouth with his thumb, then brought it to my lips.
“Swallow,” he ordered softly.
I did, tasting him fully.
He pulled me up into his arms, kissing me deeply even though I still had the taste of him on my tongue.
“You did good, baby,” he murmured against my lips. “So fucking good.”
I smiled shyly, still catching my breath, my body buzzing with a strange mix of pride and fresh desire.
I was still catching my breath, lips swollen and tingling, when Diesel’s phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand.
He didn’t even glance at it.
The screen lit up once, twice, vibrating against the wood. He ignored it completely, his thumb still gently wiping the corner of my mouth as he looked down at me with that dark, possessive stare.
I gave him a questioning look, eyebrows slightly raised. Why aren’t you answering?
Diesel’s jaw tightened. He leaned down, pressed one last slow kiss to my forehead, then pulled back.
“Clean up,” he said, voice low and final. “We need to head out.”
My stomach dropped.